


love;

by ohadeline



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dreams, F/M, Modern AU, Reincarnation, but here we go, i have no idea if i should tag as reincarnation, very short idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 14:52:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11831043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohadeline/pseuds/ohadeline
Summary: she dreams.





	love;

“I had a dream,” she whispers, lying on her side, facing him. He is fast to wake up to her whisper, eyes fluttering and then trying to focus on her face. He fixes his head on the pillow and she sees a sleep wrinkle on his left cheek.  


“Oh yeah?” His voice is groggy.  


“Yeah. We were in a medieval society. I was a queen. There were chariots and swords and knights and everything. My family, coming from across the sea, had united the nation I was ruling.”  


“Hmm,” he hums, his eyes half open. He starts stroking her bare back. She melts at his touch- it’s amazing this touch has the ability to do this to her. Calloused hand moves against her skin.  


She can actually trace back to the roots of her dream, to her unconsciousness. She had a midterm on history, and she had studied the conquest, and Anglo-Saxons, and churches so vigorously for days. The day after her midterm, The Walking Dead was airing on a low volume as they got busy in their respective corners. She, on the table that was supposed to be for dinners, he on the couch, preparing a report for a project for which Sam had done a terribly long reading.She remembered him shooting her a supportive smile, and how she took a look at his report as she brushed her teeth. It was windy that night, and there was fog. “Love, go to sleep. I promise I will wake you up earlier so that you can study. But sleep for now,” he had said. _Love, go to sleep._ How many times he had said that? _Love, you tire yourself so much._ They both used a sentence similar. _Love, you need to respect your body- it’s going to stop tolerating all that practice some time near in the future._ That, she said a lot.  


Her whispering continues, as if she remembers something at the last minute. “Like the Norman Conquest. You were by my side but somehow I was more powerful,” she seems to get lost in thoughts for a moment. “I feel like you didn’t want to sit on a throne. I don’t know. Maybe it was a feminist medieval society. Maybe women had more power, huh?”  


He chuckles, silently. “That sounds like a good medieval society,” she has his full attention now, he has adjusted to the blue light in the room, his eyes on her eyes. He pulls her towards him as she tells more of her dream.  


She shakes her head. "Nah, it wasn't," He doesn't respond, so she continues. “And I had dragons. You were a very capable soldier, or well, fighter- I don’t know. I saw you sword fighting. Zombies.”  


He laughs, then. “Dany, that’s really the stuff of fantasy. Power couple with dragons fighting zombies. Very Harry Potter, UK History, and Walking Dead.”  


Daenerys smirks, too. “It was so glorious. I sat on a throne,” she turns to lay on her back, his arm falling on her belly. “You were so handsome. Furs and all.”  


Jon chuckles again, burying his head more so in the pillow. He kisses her shoulder. “That’s a very good dream. I love your imagination.” His hair tickles her neck.  


“When I finally get to be president, I will bring back monarchy. You need to learn how to wield a sword.”  


“Sure,” he says, sighing into her skin. He glances at the clock on the bedside, 5.43. “When do you need to get up?”  


“Seven thirty,” she stops as he nods. He seems to be drifting off to sleep again. She really should stop using him as her dream journal- it’s not new or weird that they woke up in the middle of their sleep because she had some bizarre dream. Not a nightmare, at least. She doubts her last sentence in her mind; or was it a nightmare? Up until the end, it wasn’t. She wasn’t afraid. She merely woke up feeling weird. When a real nightmare visited her, it was sweating, heart thundering, Jon shushing her and comforting her and only being able to go to sleep after an hour or so, as Jon caressed her hair, or her skin, or her cheeks. So this wasn’t a nightmare, she decides. She whispers, to herself more than to him.This sentence seems to need acknowledgement, it sits on her tongue rather uncomfortably. “I think we died at the end.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is stupid. tell me this is stupid. or else i won't stop.


End file.
